


Nicotine

by TimmyJaybird



Series: You Could be My Sanctuary [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason needs him, and he hates himself for it. He hates the way his chest constricts because he wants Dick to stay, hates Dick for ever coming in the first place. The man is worse then nicotine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicotine

**Author's Note:**

> Set to Panic! at the Disco's "Nicotine".

_Cross my heart and hope to die, burn my lungs and curse my eyes. I've lost control and I don't want it back. I'm going numb, I've been hijacked- It's a fucking drag._

Jason’s cigarette dangled from his lips as he stared at Dick, standing on the fire escape to his building. He was soaked, the rain still pouring down, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck. Jason was sitting in the window a floor above, staring down, watching, not speaking. The wind was cold, it sunk into his bones, and he could hardly imagine how freezing Dick had to be. He grabbed the cigarette from his lips, had to look away from that intense blue stare. With a groan he flicked it away and vacated the window. He wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t invite. All Dick would get was the vacant window for about three minutes, before Jason closed it.

Dick was in in fifty-four seconds. Jason timed it, and he hated himself for that. He closed the window behind him, shook his hair and got water droplets everywhere. Jason frowned. Dick always made a mess of things, his things. He wasn’t sure why he let him come around at all, why he put up with it. He had other hideouts, why did he constantly go back to this one, the one Dick knew by heart.

_I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you. So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do. You're worse than nicotine, nicotine. You're worse than nicotine, nicotine._

Dick’s mouth leads the kiss, his buries his wet, gloves hands in Jason’s hair and guides his head to the angle he wants. He’s got him pinned against the wall, didn’t even wait to get him into his bedroom. Part of Jason thinks it’s incredibly hot, while the other part hates Dick for not thinking enough of him to make this decent. Still, he wraps his arms around the man and clutches at the backs of his shoulders. He tastes Gotham in his mouth, the flavor of the wind from a night of patrol. He should still be out there, Jason knew, and would only imagine the excuses he gives Bruce- if he even asks. Maybe Dick is beyond that now, the first son. Maybe he’s above the rest of them.

Dick stops kissing him long enough to drag him towards the bedroom, to start pulling at his clothing. Jason lets him, helps him peel out of his suit, leaving piles of clothing and gadgets all over the floor. He pulls Jason against his chest, pressing into the curve of his back perfectly, nipping and biting at his neck. Jason feels how much Dick wants him, how _badly_ , and he damns him because he can’t say no.

_It's better to burn than to fade away, It's better to leave than to be replaced. I'm losing to you, baby, I'm no match. I'm going numb, I've been hijacked- It's a fucking drag._

Jason let Dick push him down onto the bed. He seems beyond alive tonight, and the question of who would be _the man_ goes unasked. Jason feels like a boy with Dick most nights anyway- he brings back things Jason wanted to leave buried. Pangs in his chest from a boyhood crush on the man who had once worn his suit, who had moved up, lived through Bruce’s trials and excelled- even if Bruce could highlight his faults endlessly.

Dick isn’t cruel, but Jason wishes he was. He kisses and pries and licks until Jason is not only comfortable, but squirming, panting. He curses himself for wanting it, curses Dick for being willing to give it, because all it is is sex, and that’s not enough. Jason knows he should tell Dick no some night, end it all before he finds someone else to take his place, but he just can’t. Can’t stomach the idea of losing those hands holding him tightly, feeling muscle under scarred skin, of those perfectly blue eyes that seem to glow in the dark of his bedroom.

_I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you. So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do. You're worse than nicotine, nicotine. You're worse than nicotine, nicotine._

Jason is on his stomach when Dick enters him. He curves up against him, pushes back, welcomes him because _there is no way to deny Dick_. Jason groans and hangs his head, lets Dick set the rhythm, Dick move his body. If he responds too much, he could fall into the trap that this is real, that this is more than just some sort of sick relief from the streets. Maybe Dick thinks Jason needs that too, needs a night here and there to forget the world. If only he knew that forgetting is impossible around him.

Jason could almost get angry like this, but Dick pulls out and flips him onto his back, slips between his thighs and lays against him. The rock in a sweet rhythm and he strokes Jason’s hair, resting their foreheads together so their gasped breaths can mingle. Those eyes made it impossible to be mad, and Jason is begging for those lips to kiss him, loving the friction of Dick’s body pressed down tightly against his. Dick kisses him sweetly, strokes his hair still, murmurs sweet little nothings into his mouth that make Jason’s chest tighten impossibly, and he can’t handle it.

_Just one more hit and then we're through, 'cause you could never love me back. Cut every tie i have to you, 'cause your love's a fucking drag. But I need it so bad. Your love's a fucking drag- But I need it so bad._

Jason clings to Dick when they reach their high. He stares into Dick’s eyes as the waves roll over him, before he tips his head back as his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. Dick dips down, presses his mouth to his neck and murmurs, “Jaybird” as he joins him, until the two lay in a heap of sweaty limbs and ruffled hair. Dick moves after a moment, off Jason so he can breath easier, and lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Jason rolls onto his side, facing away from him, wanting to scream at him to leave. He knows he will anyway. Better yet, he wants to scream at himself, because he always lets Dick back in.

One of Dick’s hands trails down his spine, and he murmurs his name. Jason hesitates, before he rolls over, and Dick pulls him closer, into his arms, tangling their legs together. He holds him in silence, and Jason doesn’t know if he should accept it with that boyish joy of your first crush holding your hand, or scoff it off because _it can’t mean anything at all_. It’s just getting his hopes up.

He settles for resting his forehead on Dick’s chest and laying in silence.

_You're worse than nicotine, nicotine. You're worse than nicotine, nicotine._

Dick passes out shortly after, and Jason escapes his hold. He throws open the window to the cold, rainy Gotham night again and lights up a cigarette, letting the cold air creep in over his naked body. He inhales, closes his eyes, and wonders how many more nights he’ll have to deal with this until he finally breaks. Breaks and either tells Dick to go the fuck away and never come back, or spills to him all the little stirrings in his gut that he works so hard to keep down.

He takes a drag and realizes his hand is shaking. _Stupid_ he thinks, at himself, because he lets this happen every damn time. He holds the cigarette between his lips and grips the window sill with both hands, leaned out just enough to feel a mist falling onto his hair and face. Gotham sleeps this early in the morning, and it’s peaceful, usually.

He doesn’t hear Dick get out of bed, or as he walks down the hallway. He just feels his hand on the small of his back, stroking softly. Jason doesn’t look back, but he feels Dick lean over him, press a kiss to the back of his neck, trying to guide him back inside. He asks softly what’s wrong as Jason follows, turns and leaned his hip against the window.

He doesn’t say anything, just takes a deep breath and avoids those eyes. “Nothing,” he mutters, and Dick asks him to come back to bed. He’s tired, but he sleeps better with Jason there- and Jason knows Dick isn’t leaving until morning. He eyes him wearily. “What about your precious city?”

“It will be there in the morning,” Dick says, giving him a smile. That smile, it pulls Jason in. He takes one more drag, tossing his cigarette out the window, and stares into Dick’s eyes, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs.

“You’re worse than nicotine,” he said, and Dick just laughs and pulls the window shut, leading him back to bed. And Jason knows he’s nowhere near ready to quit, even if it kills him.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know I don't really do much outside of Batman/Joker, with the occasionally Joker/Damian (and one super short Harley/Ivy), and I'd really like to expand a little more. I also really love Jason and Dick together, and decided it was high time I attempted something for the two. Key, attempted. I'm not unsatisfied, but I also know I need a little more practice with the two.


End file.
